


Something Peaceful

by joshbroban



Category: Glee
Genre: Car Accidents, Drowning, F/M, Minor Character Death, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 12:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshbroban/pseuds/joshbroban
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam Evans is hit by tragedy, he not only begins the process of grieving, but the journey of exploring the faith he’s followed blindly since the day he was born and learning how death has affected the people around him.</p>
<p>Eventual Samtina, focus on Blaine/Sam/Tina friendship.</p>
<p>A/N: The actions associated with the Catholic faith in this piece are drawn from my experiences, which may be different than other Catholics’. There is a lot of talk of God in this fic, and if that’s not your thing (especially with religion shown in a positive way), you may not want to read it. The timeline for this is a little weird, but the jist of it is that the tragedy happens several months before regionals.  I’ve opted to leave out the shooting and the Klaine proposal stuff because I began writing this before that all happened and I just kind of assumed they’d win Regionals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nothing But The Water

Sam Evans uses the tip of his shoe to pull down the kneeler in front of him, hurrying to get into the right position. At eight years old, he’s pretty sure he’s never been so nervous in his life. Today he’s receiving his First Communion, a bit later than most kids because of not having time for the classes, not to mention how slow he was when he managed to get to them.

He’s nervous, but after giving his confession before Mass begins, it all seems to go by in a blur. He glances at his parents once, and they smile at him before turning their attention to his new baby brother, who begins to make a fuss.

He makes his promises to God and does the proper prayers and before he knows it, it’s his turn to hold out his cupped hands and receive the flat little disc.

“The Body of Christ,” Father Basil says.

“Amen,” Sam responds dutifully, doing the sign of the cross and placing the bread on his tongue.

The taste of the bread lingers even over the taste of the wine as he sits in the pew, waiting for the service to end so he can go home with his parents and work on his reading assignment for the next day. Even through the brunch his mom makes them, the bland, not-unpleasant taste stays, and it somehow makes him feel closer to God; a phrase he never really understood until now.

* * *

 

He doesn’t know what he’s expecting when Miss Pillsbury calls him out of class. Maybe something about his second SAT scores or another scholarship suggestion, but he definitely doesn’t expect to be sat down in her office and told that—

“Your sister, Stacey,” she begins gently, and Sam already feels muscles tighten and brain go blank at the tone of her voice.

“I’m sorry, what?” he asks, having not heard what she said.

“She was in a car accident. Her condition is critical and the doctors aren’t sure if she’ll make it. I’m so sorry,” she says, but Sam stopped listening after the word ‘critical’. He needs to see her, needs to get to his  _family_ , needs to help make this right and his parents can’t  _afford_ this, there’s no way—

“Sam, Sam, calm down; they’ll figure it out, I promise,”

He doesn’t even realize he’s saying everything out loud.

“I need to get to them,” he says hoarsely, pushing the words out of his lungs. “My family needs me.”

“I understand, but you can’t just take off—,”

“I’m going,” he retorts forcefully, standing and swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Where are they?”

She sighs and holds out a scrap of paper to him. “This hospital in Louisville. How are you going to get to Kentucky? You don’t have a car!”

Sam doesn’t know how to answer. She’s right, he doesn’t. He quickly decides that he doesn’t care. He’ll walk to Kentucky if he has to.

He doesn’t even think of asking his friends until he sees Tina walking down the hallway toward him.

“Hey, what’s up?” she asks, but he doesn’t reply, just walks up and grips her shoulder.

“Are you busy?” he asks. Her eyes go wide at the urgency in his voice and she shakes her head.

“I mean, there’s school, but I could certainly go for doing something more interesting.”

“I need you to drive me to Louisville.”

Tina’s eyebrows shoot up. “Kentucky?”

“Yes,” he replies shortly, and there must be something in her eyes that speaks to her because she nods quickly.

“Of course. What’s going on?”

It’s like he’s talking on autopilot as he explains what’s happening. He barely notices her gasps or her tiny hand squeezing his tightly. He does register her saying something about getting Blaine, and before he knows it, his best friend is hugging him incredibly tightly and then leading him outside.

He doesn’t like not being in control, but at the moment, he’s never felt so helpless.

* * *

 

Sam’s ten when Stacey is born.

He paces the waiting room in a mimic of what his father did earlier. The old lady in the corner smiles at him, but he doesn’t respond. He has bigger things to worry about, like taking care of Stevie while Mama has his sister or remembering all the words to the song they’re learning in music class.

He doesn’t even realize he’s singing until the old lady speaks up.

“You have a lovely voice, young man,”

Sam stops pacing and turns to her. His nose crinkles as he says, “Lovely?”

“Oh, no, forgive me; I meant manly,”

He nods. That’s more like it.

“Are you waiting for a new brother or sister?”

“Yes ma’am,” he answers, remembering his manners. “My brand new baby sister is going to be here any minute now.”

The lady looks impressed. “Is that so? Are you excited to be a big brother?”

Sam puffs out his chest. “I’m already a big brother! That’s my brother Stevie right there. He’s a baby, but I can take care of him.”

“I’m sure you can,” she answers seriously.

He continues his pacing. It’s really boring, but his dad does it, so it must be important. Maybe it’s like exercise or something.

When Papa comes into the room, Sam walks to him quickly.

“Is she here? Can I see her? What’s her name?”

Dwight’s smile is tight as he reaches down to pick up his son. “She’ll be here soon. Baby is…sick. The doctors need to look at her and try to make her feel better, okay?”

Sam nods, though he’s really disappointed. He just wants to see his baby sister!

His father puts him down and, with a parting kiss on the head, leaves the waiting room again. A few seconds after he leaves, his aunt Shaina comes hurrying into the room.

“Sammy! Where’s your dad? Is the baby here?”

Sam stands straight and gives her the information he has.

“Baby is here, but she’s sick so Dad had to go see Mom again while the doctors try to make Baby okay.”

Aunt Shaina’s face falls, but quickly goes back to the smile. “Okey dokey. Where’s Stevie?” Sam points to the corner with the blocks and toys, where Stevie is totally unbothered by anything happening around him. When the toddler sees Shaina, his face breaks out into a gummy grin and a giggle bubbles out of him.

Sam continues pacing. He doesn’t know why, really, but he has a bad feeling in his tummy. It’s like that time he saw a dead kitty on the road; that time, Mama told him to pray for the kitty and then he would feel better because he would know that God was taking care of it.

It had worked then, so he thinks it might work now. What’s the harm in asking God to make his sister better?

He takes a look around to make sure no one is watching him, and then sneaks out of the waiting room. He remembers his dad taking him for a walk before and showing him the little hospital church. He finds it easily and walks in with no one noticing him.

Just how he does every Sunday, Sam uses the toe of his shoe to pull down the kneeler before beginning to pray. He might not be very old, but Sam knows there’s something special about the way his body seems to relax when he begins to speak to God.

Of course, God doesn’t say anything back, but that’s fine. Sometimes it’s nice to know someone’s listening, even if they don’t say anything back. His mind, usually so confused and full of thoughts and ideas, begins to clear and he can finally just  _focus_ for once.

He says a lot of things in his mind, asking God to hurry up and make his sister better, to make sure that his Mama gets out okay, to maybe help him figure out a way to buy a new G.I. Joe…that sort of thing.

After almost fifteen minutes of silent prayer, the only word Sam utters is a soft ‘ _Amen’_ that echoes through the tiny chapel.

* * *

 

Sam sits in the waiting room with his parents, Stevie, Blaine, and Tina without saying a word. Stevie is off in the corner with a book, but he’s clearly not reading it. His eyes are frozen on the paper and Sam knows that his brother can’t think of anything or anyone but his sister, to whom he is so very close.

His parents lean against each other with tear streaked faces. His father’s cheek bears a long, thin, stitched wound and his mother’s right hand is bound in some sort of cast. They had been on their way to pick up Stevie from a field trip when the accident had happened. Sam doesn’t know many details; none of them can really say much.

Blaine and Tina sit on either side of him, each holding one of his hands and both resting their heads on his shoulders. He rests his head against Blaine’s while lacing his fingers through Tina’s and gripping her firmly. He can’t bring himself to say anything to them, not even ‘thank you’, but their bodies pressing against him make him feel at least a little sane.

His father stands and gruffly says that he’s going to go find some coffee. No one follows him or gives him any indication that they’ve heard him. No one really has the energy.

He concentrates on the steady rhythm of Blaine’s breathing and Tina’s pulse pumping beneath his fingers. He’s so focused on those that he doesn’t notice Tina’s bowed head and her lips moving in silent prayer.

He certainly doesn’t think to pray himself.

* * *

 

Sam returns to the waiting room and is immediately pounced by his aunt.

“Sammy, where did you go?” She asks, eyes wide with worry.

“I just went to pray,” he answers earnestly.

Shaina sighs and bends down to hug him. “Don’t take off on me like that. Next time, we’ll all go, okay?”

Sammy nods, but he’s glad that he got to go alone. It makes him feel like a grown-up.

Just then, his father walks in with a smile and Sam just  _knows._

She’s here.

* * *

 

Sam plants a kiss on Stevie’s forehead before moving to Stacey’s. Their parents are out at a New Year’s Eve party and have finally deemed Sam old enough to babysit. He’s fourteen and home on break from his first semester at boarding school and he’s honestly just happy to be back with his siblings. He’s fine without them, but he hates thinking he’s missing their childhood.

He’s just tucked them into bed, but it’s so late that he decides to just let them stay up until midnight with him. He’s perched on the end of Stacey’s bed, trying not to laugh at their constant bickering. At some point, their voices die out with their exhaustion from the day. Finally, the little boy turns to look at his brother with tired eyes.

“It’s almost the new year,” Stevie whispers with toothy grin. Sam smiles back and moves to the other bed to ruffle his brother’s hair.

“Only one more minute,” he whispers in response, motioning for Stacey to join them on Stevie’s bed. She scrambles over and snuggles into his side, and he wonders why kids his age always complain about having little brothers and sisters.

The clock on the wall ticks to midnight and Sam covers his ears when Stevie and Stacey begin to yell. After a few moments, he pulls them both toward him and they end up in a ticklefest on the bed.

By the time they’re done, all three of them are grinning and red-faced, but also incredibly tired. Sam tucks Stacey back into bed and straightens out Stevie’s blankets over him. When their heads loll off into sleep, Sam smiles and goes to his room.

He likes taking care of them. He feels like a superhero.

* * *

 

Sam hears his father’s even footsteps approach the door. They’re far too slow, and his blood runs colder with every step closer, his throat growing tight as his heart races.

He looks up at his father’s vacant eyes and empty, limp hands and he knows.

She’s gone.


	2. We Wait For Morning to Wake You

Stacey gets the flu when she’s four and Sam learns how to make chicken noodle soup just so he can say he helped her feel better.

He feels like a superhero.

 

* * *

 

Everything’s moving but nothing is moving and Sam can sort of hear Blaine saying his name and he can definitely feel Tina’s hot tears against his wrist and he’s trying his hardest not to listen to his mother’s wails on the other side of the room.

Stevie’s face is contorted into something indescribably painful, but his tears don’t fall. At least, if they do, Sam can’t see them. Stevie walks out of the waiting room before anyone can.

Dwight walks over to Mary and pulls her into his arms. Sam wants to do something, wants to do  _anything_  to not let those words sink into him, but it’s too late. They’re sinking into his skin like a tattoo, permanent and loud, but she  _can’t_  be dead. Surely, there must be some mistake.

He finally turns to look at Blaine. It feels like it takes forever, the simple turn of his head. His friend takes a sharp breath when he meets Sam’s eyes, but Sam can’t imagine why. Maybe he’s got something on his cheek.

  
(Or maybe it’s because his eyes are wide with unbearable pain that isn’t being released—)

He turns to look at Tina, and is a bit surprised to see her head bowed and her lips moving quickly and silently. Little breaths of word come out, things like ‘Lord’ and ‘Heaven’ and he remembers.

He didn’t _pray_. Oh, it all makes sense now. He didn’t pray, so Stacey didn’t live, he’s ruined it. But maybe there’s still time—

Sam stands quickly and rushes out of the door, ignoring the questions of Blaine and Tina behind him. His feet lead him to the chapel and he walks in without sparing a glance at anyone, just as he had almost eight years ago.

He falls to his knees and closes his eyes.

_In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Lord, I ask you to please bring back my sister. I’m sorry I forgot to pray, but it was just a misunderstanding, okay?_

Even as he thinks the words, the truth begins to settle in his bones. The wicked burn of truth begins to rush through his veins and the heaviness that is usually relieved during prayer only gets heavier.

Tina and Blaine watch from the doorway, hands clasped in solidarity.

* * *

 

No one notices a small blond boy running down the street away from the hospital.

Tina and Blaine drive Sam to his parents’ house while Dwight and Mary begin arrangements. Mary’s stare is a constant blank expression, and Dwight is no better, but at least he can talk.

They try to find Stevie before leaving, but he’s nowhere to be seen. They soon realize, however, that he went home on the bus and on foot. Sam can’t mistake the broken wails coming from the house, sobs that sound far too weary for such a young boy.

Dwight tells Tina and Blaine that they can stay in Kentucky for the night, but they only stay until Sam falls asleep on the couch. There’s a free bed, but no one can step into Stacey’s room without feeling like the world is falling apart, so Sam rests his head on Tina’s legs and his legs on Blaine until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.

He won’t let himself cry.

* * *

 

He’s only ever been to four funerals: Both grandfathers, his mother’s mother, and Jean Sylvester’s. The only one he can really remember is Jean’s. Then, he had been filled with a sort of detached sorrow, his heart clenching at the tears of Coach Sue and the sadness in Mr. Schue’s voice. He’d wanted to comfort someone, to make someone feel better. By singing, he hoped they’d accomplished that.

Stacey’s funeral isn’t like that at all.

He’s sitting in the front pew, refusing to look back and see his friends all lined up together in back. He knows that even the graduated ones are back for this, and he knows that he should be touched, but he mostly just feels… _numb._

The only ones brave enough to talk to him are Mercedes and Quinn. They approach him, along with Rachel and Brittany, and give him tight hugs. Sam remembers how much Stacey had admired all four of them and it causes a wave of unpleasant emotion to swell from his stomach throughout his whole body.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Quinn whispers, her voice low and rough, yet still with the soft quality that is so very her. He doesn’t respond, just lets her go and doesn’t even watch as she walks away.

Rachel hugs him next, and she strangely doesn’t say anything. She just hugs him so tightly that it’s almost painful, but it’s somehow comforting. She kisses his cheek quickly before following Quinn.

Brittany just holds him close. Neither of them does well with words, but he can feel the sadness leaking from her and it almost pains him to let go. She kisses his lips lightly before walking gracefully to sit by Santana.

Finally, Mercedes stands in front of him. They don’t hug right away; she holds out her hand first, an echo of something they used to do in the choir room. He looks at it and grasps it before he can even think about it, a sense of calm running through him at the soft, warm touch of her skin.

He’s not in love with her anymore; he knows that. They were never meant to last forever, but she’s still like an angel to him and he still finds himself in awe of her. She pulls him to her and he hugs her harder than he’s hugged anyone else. One of her hands goes up to stroke his hair and he’s hit by a memory of them at the carnival with Stevie and Stacey.

He cracks for the first time.

He buries his face in her hair as the tears he’s been holding back finally begin to fall, and her grip tightens. Sobs pull from him, and she begins to shake. She doesn’t falter her comforting embrace, though; she never does. If that’s one thing he knows about her, it’s that she’s always there when people need her the most, and today is no different; she’s whispering things into his shoulder that he can’t make out, but he has a feeling she’s saying all the right things.

After a few minutes, he pulls away and kisses her hair. She smiles softly and sadly before kissing his cheek and walking away. Sam finally turns back and makes eye contact with some of his friends.

Blaine, Kurt, and Finn are sitting so close that there’s barely and inch of space between them, while Tina sits next Artie further back. Puck and Jake are at the very back of the church, heads bowed and respectfully silent. Marley, Jake, Ryder, Unique, and Kitty all sit together in a middle pew. He knows everyone else is there, knows how lucky he is to have such incredible friends, but he can’t really focus on them right now.

He turns to the front of the church and before he knows it, the service begins. Prayers are said and the priest talks about Stacey, as if he knows the way she snorts when she laughs too hard or that she is deathly afraid of mice—was.

Little cries escape while he stares at his hands, forgetting to kneel or pray along with everyone else. He’s sure that Kurt, Rachel, Jake, and Puck aren’t doing it either, but a tiny part of him is ashamed that he has no interest in the service. He hasn’t been to church in months, but he’d always been good at remembering what to do.

Soon, it’s time to receive Communion and he goes through the motions ritualistically. He stands in line and holds out his hands and says “Amen” after Father Bill says “The Body of Christ.”

He dips the bread into the wine like his mom always does and it’s a strange combination of bitter and sweet and bland all at once.

* * *

 

The burial feels like the air is constantly rushing from his windpipe. The weight in his stomach keeps sinking and sinking and with every tear that falls, the emptier he feels.

He looks over at Stevie and the deadness in his little brother’s eyes is the most awful thing he’s ever seen.

* * *

 

Sam considers moving back with his parents, but they tell him that he should finish senior year at McKinley. He agrees, but his heart is barely in it. He doesn’t know how to act around anyone anymore, and they don’t know how to act around him.

The only ones who don’t seem to get on his nerves are Burt and Carole. They seem to know exactly what to say and when to say it. They even seem to know exactly when he wants to be alone and when he desperately shouldn’t be. His friends are wonderful, but Burt and Carole are a blessing.

He breaks up with Brittany.

She doesn’t cry, but there’s sadness in her body that he knows only he and maybe Santana can detect. She holds his hand and kisses his forehead and tells him that things will be okay again soon. She also says something about singing female power ballads from the 90’s to feel better, but he doesn’t quite know how to respond to that.

Blaine is around maybe a little more than he should be, but he’s mostly quiet and Sam needs someone composed like him around. He hates to think it, but he thinks maybe Blaine is trying to pay him back for all the support Sam gave him in the beginning of the year. Blaine should know that he doesn’t need to do that.

The real problem, though, is Tina.

She’s  _stifling._  Every school day, she drops by with something in her hands to entertain him with or to feed him.  At first, he tries to be polite and accept it and listen to her ramble about whatever she likes, but it happens every single day and he doesn’t know how to tell her to leave him alone, so he just begins to ignore her.

Burt and Carole aren’t home for a while after school, so when she drops by after whatever club meeting she had, he’s the one who answers the door and lets her in.

On the seventh consecutive afternoon, while they’re sitting in the living room doing homework, he looks at her dead in the eye. She flinches a bit, as if she’s not used to it, then composes herself, setting down her pencil.

“Tina, it’s not that I don’t appreciate all of this, but I kind of just want to be alone after school, you know?”

She doesn’t say anything (“For once,” he thinks), just stands up and walks to the kitchen.

“I’m going to make some tea,” she says in response, and he just sighs and goes back to his books.

He even tries not answering the door, but she just waits until someone comes back, and many times Finn drops by after his classes and seems confused by Sam’s glares.

Sam begins to notice that she stays for exactly one hour before leaving. He times her from the tenth to the fifteenth afternoon and, without fail, she stays for one hour from the moment he opens the door. He decides to just let her in right away after that.

* * *

 

Sam’s beginning to hate Glee Club, and he hates that. Glee Club is supposed to be his safe place, but now he has to deal with pitying looks that  _still_  haven’t quit after over a month after Stacey’s funeral. He just wants to sing some cheesy music with his friends, but instead they’re all just being really careful and quiet around him and giving him fake smiles.

One day, he blows up at Marley after she asks if she can knit him a scarf.

“Why would you do that? Would you have done that if my sister hadn’t just died?” He practically screams at her and Jake immediately steps in front of her and pushes Sam back gently.

“Back off,” he says quietly, but full of authority. Sam feels a gentle hand on his shoulder and doesn’t look to see who it is, just lets them turn him and lead him to the hallway. He slides down the wall and watches Tina’s black and white shoes click back into the choir room.

In his heart, he knows that he overreacted. Honestly, Marley  _would_  have asked to knit him a scarf even if he hadn’t just lost his sister. He starts thinking about Marley and how tough it was for her when school first started and he feels awful.

* * *

 

Sam is fourteen and he’s really beginning to hate school. Sure, he likes being at boarding school and being around his friends like 24/7, but that also means that they know how much trouble he has in class and that’s just embarrassing. He hates that he can’t just  _read_  like other people do.

Plus, he misses his family a lot.

He’s quiet the whole ride back home with his dad, but he doesn’t ask any questions, which Sam is grateful for. His mom is waiting outside with a huge grin when they pull into the driveway, so he manages to crack a small smile for her.

“How’s my baby?” His mom asks as he pulls her into a hug.

“I’m good, Mom,”

She holds his face in her hands and examines him.

“You’re tired,” she decides. He nods and she makes a noise of assent before leading him into the house. “You can rest after you have some of the cake Stevie and I made you.”

“Where’s Stace?” He asks, looking around.

Mary stops and thinks for a moment. “I don’t know. She was playing around upstairs while we were baking, but I don’t know where she is right now. Why don’t you go find her?”

Sam nods and walks up the stairs while listening for the sounds of his sister.

“Stacey?” he calls, a bit spooked by the silence.

“Sammy!” comes a cry from his bedroom.

He smiles and opens the door, but freezes when he sees her on the floor with a safety scissors, cutting up his Pokémon cards.

“What are you doing?” He asks, trying to quell the anger swelling in him.

“I’m making you a collage of your favorite things!” She answers brightly, gesturing to the large paper on the floor that now had various pictures of his family and cut-out Pokémon on it.

“Don’t touch my stuff!” He yells, snatching the card away from her and packing it into the little book he has for them.

“I’m sorry,” Stacey begins, but he just slams the book into his bedside table and ignores her small sniffles.

“Get out!”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, her voice high and scared.

“What’s going on in here?” Dwight asks from the doorway. He looks down and sees Stacey crying with her half-finished collage and looks up at Sam with anger.

“Is there a specific reason you made your sister cry within five minutes of getting home?”

“She was cutting up my Pokémon cards!”

“That’s no reason to make her cry! She’s been looking forward to seeing you for months and she was trying to make you a gift!”

Sam feels his own eyes burning as they usually do when he fights with his parents. “Well, that doesn’t mean she can just come in my room and cut up my things!”

His father is quiet. He bends down to pick up Stacey and makes to leave the room. He stops before he gets to the door and turns back to Sam.

“I’m really disappointed that we had to fight as soon as you got home. You know that we’re glad you’re back.”

Sam doesn’t say anything and shuts his eyes until he hears the door click shut.

He thinks about the sight of Stacey’s smile falling and her eyes filling with tears and he feels awful.

* * *

 

After a few minutes, he hears the door open again and someone sits next to him. He sighs and rolls his eyes, not wanting to talk to Tina or Blaine. When he turns to say so, though, he’s surprised to see Joe Hart sitting there.

“Marley’s pretty upset, dude.”

Sam sighs. “I know. I’ll apologize to her in a bit.”

Joe nods with understanding, and sometimes Sam can’t stand how nice the guy is. He just yelled at a perfectly innocent girl who goes out of her way to be kind to people, yet here was Joe, acting as if he made all the sense in the world.

“I don’t want to be rude, but why are you here?”

Joe looks at him and asks, “When’s the last time you went to church?”

Sam recoils a bit at the question, taken by surprise. “Uh, I don’t know, the funeral?”

“When’s the last time you prayed?”

Sam doesn’t answer, just looks down at his hands. “I don’t know if I believe in that anymore, man.”

Joe should walk away, Sam knows that; but he’s somehow not surprised that Joe doesn’t move at all, just waits.

“I just…I always felt like someone was listening, you know? I always had this feeling that He was there and I could feel Him while I prayed, but…now I’m not so sure. I didn’t feel it when I was praying after Stacey died. It’s like He disappeared.”

He chances a look at Joe and sees tears in his eyes.

“Whoa, dude, calm down.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Joe says in surprise. He wipes his eyes and looks at Sam with attentiveness. “Maybe you should come to a God Squad meeting.”

“That’s still going?”

“Yeah. I thought you would take over as President when Mercedes and Quinn graduated, but I guess you got busy with Student Council and Glee, so I kind of took over.”

Sam feels a little guilty, so he says that he’ll go their next meeting. Joe smiles and stands up to go back into the choir room. He stops and turns back to Sam.

“Don’t give up on Him yet, bro. He doesn’t give us anything we can’t handle.”

He’d heard the same thing a hundred times after Stacey passed, but for some reason, it sinks in a little deeper when Joe says it.

* * *

 

He gets home and walks right to Burt’s tiny liquor cabinet. All it has in it are two bottles of wine and a bottle of gin, but Sam pops one of the wine bottles open and pours himself some in a plastic red cup. He takes a swig and the taste settles in the back of his mouth like Communion wine. It’s not as sweet and he feels some sort of bad feeling settle over him, so he slams the rest of it and pours some gin in the cup instead.

He knows it’s not a good idea to drink, but he doesn’t really care. He begins to cry a little bit, but stops after a minute and just tries to do his homework while becoming steadily tipsier. No matter how much gin he drinks, he can’t get rid of the taste of wine that lingers.

The doorbell rings and he staggers to the door. He pulls it open with a flourish to see Tina standing there, right on cue.

“Tina time!” he says with a laugh and Tina scowls.

“Are you drinking?” she asks.

“Red Solo cup,” he sings, holding up the cup and spinning.

“That’s enough,” Tina says. She walks past him and puts away the alcohol. She turns the key in the cabinet and pockets it. “Give me that, you’re done now,” she commands, holding out her hand.

“Whatever,” he mumbles, but hands her the cup. She takes a swig, winces, and then walks to the sink to spill it.

“Do you want to lie down or something?” she asks.

Sam nods, so Tina takes his hand and leads him to his room. He doesn’t ask how she knows which one it is, just follows her in and lets her tidy up his bed before he lies down in it.

“Are you going to rub Vaporub all over me?” he asks with a snort. She doesn’t respond, just picks up an empty chip bag on his floor and throws it in his wastebasket.

“I’m going to take your shoes off. Is that okay?” she asks.

“Did you ask Blaine if it was okay to rub his chest?” he responds with a laugh. She stiffens, but doesn’t say anything.

“So, is it okay?”

“Yeah, whatever,” he says, waving his hand at her.

She gently pulls off each shoe. He starts to drift off when she begins talking.

“I know it was wrong of me to do that to Blaine,” she says simply. “I wasn’t in a good place and I just needed to help someone. That’s what I do; I help people.”

Sam tries to sit up, but she pushes him down softly. “Lie down. You’re going to feel sick soon enough.”

“Do you pray?” He asks her, fighting his heavy eyelids.

Tina sits down at the edge of his bed and looks down at him.

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“Can you pray for me?” he asks before turning on his side and drifting off.

He doesn’t see her mouth open slightly and her eyes fill with tears as she nods.


	3. Keep It Between Friends

“Okay, guys; I want to welcome back Sam Evans to the God Squad!”

There are only three people in the club besides Joe and Sam: Dottie, Kitty, and some freshman girl that Sam’s never met named Fiona with curly hair and big glasses. The three girls clap politely, though Kitty eyes him suspiciously.

“So, today, I think we should talk about prayer,” Joe offers. Kitty scoffs.

“Don’t we do that at every meeting?”

“What I mean is that we should talk about what prayer means to us; we should talk about how praying makes us feel.”

Dottie raises her hand tentatively. Joe smiles and nods in her direction. “Well, I guess prayer makes me feel calm, which I don’t feel very often. My mom says I was born worrying and praying makes me not worry for a little bit.”

Sam nods with understanding.

“How about you, Kitty?” Joe asks kindly.

Kitty clears her throat and avoids everyone’s eyes. “I guess it just kind of makes me feel like I still have a chance to be a good person. It’s kind of like I can see myself as God sees me, instead of as a bitch like everyone else sees me.”

Joe smiles. “That’s beautiful. I feel the same way, like God can forgive everything, so I need to forgive myself, too.”

Kitty, instead of making some retort, just nods and stays silent.

“Fiona?” Joe calls.

The girl looks around the room with wide, brown eyes through her glasses. She reminds Sam of a younger, nerdy Mercedes and his heart softens for the girl.

“Well, I, um, I think prayer is kind of like healing yourself, you know? Like in Left4Dead when you use the med packs to get your life back up. Those moments when you just stop and pray, it’s kind of like healing all the stuff that happened to you during the day and it, uh, rejuvenates you,” She looks around nervously. “I know that kind of sounds silly, but it just comforts me, you know? The idea that someone’s out there watching over me… it keeps me going.”

The girl looks down at her hands and shyly looks up at Sam. He gives her a soft, reassuring smile and she looks down again quickly.

“Nicely said, Fiona,” Joe responds, nodding and smiling as usual.

The rest of the meeting is about some fundraising activities that the club is planning for the nursing home and for a women’s shelter a few towns over. Sam doesn’t really pay attention, but he likes being in the group again. He’d gone to the Left Behind Club at the beginning of the year, but it had felt so mean and so different that he’d stopped; not to mention that he couldn’t really handle books that big.

Finally, Joe stands and says that the meeting is over and it’s time for the prayer. The rest of them stand and grasp hands, and Sam feels strange with Joe holding his left and Dottie holding his right. Her hands are kind of clammy, but he doesn’t really mind. Joe’s are callused and rough, but his hold is gentle.

“Lord, please bless those who are in need of your salvation and goodness; bless the staff and students of this school and at all schools; bless each person in this room and their family; we ask you to watch all those we have lost: my brother, Dottie’s grandmother, Kitty’s aunt, Fiona’s father, and Sam’s sister; and we pray you forgive our sins and continue to show us your everlasting glory. Amen.”

‘Amen’ is repeated softly and Sam tries not to look too long at each of them now that he knows they’ve all lost someone, especially Joe. He doesn’t know the story or, really, anything about the guy, but he feels a connection to him at their shared knowledge of what it is to lose a sibling.

Kitty gives him a quick hug before she leaves and it takes him by surprise. He hugs her back and she gives him some semblance of a genuine smile. The other girls follow, Dottie’s hug tight and Fiona’s soft.

“Nice to meet you,” he says to the youngest girl, and she nods quickly while avoiding his eyes.

“You, too. I’m sorry about your sister,” she runs away after speaking, not giving him a chance to respond.

Soon, it’s just Joe and Sam left in the classroom.

“I’m really glad you kept this group going, man,” Sam says to the other boy, who is digging in his bag for something.

Joe turns to him with his car keys in his hand. “I had to, bro. Sometimes it feels like God is the only thing that makes sense, and this club is what made me feel like I belonged when I first started here.”

Sam nods at Joe’s words, his heart clenching at the idea of a lonely Joe.

“Can I ask you something?”

The younger boy takes a breath and gives Sam an apologetic look. “I don’t really want to talk about my brother right now. I do, eventually, want to share that with you; but I’m not really ready to right now.”

Sam agrees quickly. “Oh, no, sure man. I was actually going to ask you why you’re being so cool to me.”

Joe tilts his head in confusion. “I treat you the way I treat everybody.”

“Yeah, but people are mean to you, dude. That includes me. Don’t you ever just want to yell at us?”

Joe shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m happy with who I am and everyone has their struggles, you know? I can’t get angry with them; they’ll just take it out on someone else. It doesn’t bother me, so I’d rather they let it out to me rather than hurt someone’s feelings.”

Sam doesn’t know what to say. It pisses him off to think of how good a person Joe is.

“I don’t think everyone should be like me,” Joe adds absentmindedly. “I think there’s a lot of fault in letting people say those things to me, but I guess it’s just the easy way, in my mind.”

Sam nods, but he still wishes he could be a bit more like Teen Jesus.

* * *

 

“Why do you do this?”

Tina turns away from her tea on the stove in surprise at Sam’s voice.

“Because I want to.”

“I’m an asshole to you most of the time,” Sam points out.

Tina snorts. “Everyone’s an asshole to me,”

“Well, it’s not like you’re not a bitch sometimes.”

Tina scowls and turns off her tea before turning back to him. “You know what? Yeah, I can be a bitch. But I’m on my own, Sam. I don’t have very many friends outside of my ex-boyfriends and a gay boy that I’m in love with, so I have to fend for myself a lot of time,” she pours their tea into mugs and sets them down on the counter. “So yeah, I act out when I’m angry; but it’s not like anyone cares at the end of the day,”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You act like everything is so hard for you,”

“I never said that! I hardly complain about anything; you asked, so I answered.”

“I asked you why you’re doing this and you didn’t answer. ‘Because I want to’ isn’t an answer.”

Tina sighs and sits next to him at the counter. “You really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know.”

Tina takes a sip of her tea. “I’m doing this because helping people is the only thing that I’m good at. It’s the only thing that makes me feel like I’m worth something. And I think a part of me hopes that if I help you enough, you’ll be my friend. And now I feel pathetic, so I’m going to go.”

She stands, but Sam grabs her hand and pulls her back down.

“Don’t,” she warns. “I don’t want you to pity me or something. I shouldn’t have said anything,”

“You’re good at lots of stuff, Tina,”

She lets out a short laugh. “Yeah, okay, I’m definitely going.”

“No,” he protests. “I’m saying that as someone who’s been in glee club with you for almost three years. You’re a great singer.”

“Not as good as—no, I said I wasn’t going to do this. Enough of the pity party. Do you want some more tea?”

He looks down at his mug. “I haven’t even taken a drink yet.”

“Oh. Do you want some candy? I have some in my bag,” she reaches around and plunges her hand into the purse hanging off the back of the chair.

Sam sighs and accepts the lollipop she hands him.

* * *

 

He goes to church alone on Sunday. Judy Fabray is there, but he avoids her because she kind of scares of him.

Sam tries to make it through the service, but by the time the second reading is recited, he stands and walks out of the chapel as quietly as he can.

It hurts too much to think of Stacey in her pretty little church dresses.

* * *

 

Blaine’s grades begin to drop and he becomes practically unbearable.

“My dad is going to kill me,” he moans, then looks at Sam with wide eyes. “I mean—,”

Sam ignores the last part. “I don’t think your dad knows how to kill anything that can’t be axed with a flyswatter.”

Blaine punches Sam’s shoulder and throws his head back dramatically. “This isn’t funny! I need straight A’s if I’m going to get into NYADA.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Just ask Tina to tutor you. I’m pretty sure she’s never gotten less than an A in her life.”

“She’s already busy enough with her classes, I can’t ask her to do that,” Blaine responds. Sam wants to laugh, but can’t manage it anymore.

“Trust me, she’ll be juiced to help you. Maybe she’ll stop coming to my freakin’ house every day if she tutors you instead.”

“She’s still doing that?” Blaine whispers in shock.

“Yeah. You didn’t know?”

Blaine shakes his head. “She would never answer me when I asked about it, so I figured she’d give up eventually.”

“Well, she hasn’t,” Sam answers gravely. “What’s going on, anyway? Why are your grades tanking?”

Blaine shrugs. “I’m just stressed out and distracted, I guess. Glee Club and student council and Cheerios and the Kurt situation and graduation and prom and you and—oh shit, that didn’t come out right.”

Sam shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. I know what you mean.”

Blaine continues. “You don’t stress me out, Sam, I just-,”

“Stop, dude. It’s okay,” Sam intercedes. “You don’t know how to help me. I get it.”

Blaine looks so sad that Sam knocks on his head to try and cheer him up. Blaine squirms away with a laugh and the librarian shushes them. They both turn back to their respective books and study, but Sam feels a ghost of lightness that he hasn’t felt in months.

* * *

 

“How’s Dad?”

Sam draws absentmindedly while talking to his mother. He sketches random faces, mostly what he remembers of Stacey’s and a lot of Blaine and Tina, but none of them really take a good form.

Mary lets out a sad sigh. “He’s been burying himself in work. Sometimes we don’t even see him all day, he’s been working so hard.”

Sam’s heart aches at the thought of his father working himself into the ground. “How about Stevie?”

“He’s even worse; his grades are dropping and he hardly talks anymore. His teachers understand, but I’m worried.”

“Well, how about you, Mom? Are you doing okay?” Sam asks, worried at how calm she sounds.

“We have to keep moving, Sam. Of course it hurts, but we can’t just cry forever. We can remember her and mourn her and still keep living our lives.”

“It doesn’t feel like that, sometimes,” Sam says softly. His mother quiets at the other end.

“It gets easier, Sammy,” she offers. He tries to protest, but she cuts in. “No, I shouldn’t put it that way. It doesn’t stop hurting, but it gets easier to move and to breathe and to laugh again.”

“Is it easier for you yet?” he asks, knowing her answer.

“No.”

* * *

 

One day, Tina doesn’t go Sam’s house after school.

It’s not that he’s waiting for her, but he just expects her at this point. When Burt and Carole get home and she still hasn’t visited, he gets curious.

He checks Facebook and Twitter, but she hasn’t updated all day. He doesn’t want to call her (so as not to encourage her to resume her visits), but he does call Blaine and casually asks what he’s doing, hoping that he’ll mention Tina if she’s with him. When Blaine says he’s practicing for Regionals and doesn’t say anything about her, Sam kind of tunes out and begins to worry.

After he hangs up with Blaine, he gives in and calls her cell. She picks up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, what’s up?”

She silent for a beat before replying, “Why are you calling me?”

“Can’t I just see how my friend is doing?”

Tina lets out a small laugh. “Yeah, okay, sure. I’m fine, Sam. What’s up with you?”

“Oh, you know, just hanging around, enjoying the alone time I haven’t had in months.”

“You’re not masturbating are you? You don’t have some kind of weird Asian fetishization objectification thing?”

“What? No! I don’t even know what that means.”

“It—never mind. Why are you calling me?”

Sam sighs. “I was just wondering if you’re okay. You haven’t left me alone for like two months so I was a little worried when you didn’t show up,” he adds quickly, “But that doesn’t mean you should keep bothering me after school for the rest of my life.”

“Yeah, no, okay, I’m going to go keep practicing.”

“Practicing for what?”

“I want to ask Mr. Schue to hold auditions for a Nationals solo, and when he does, I want to be ready.”

“Don’t we have to win Regionals first? And you don’t think he’ll just give you one?”

“Of course we’re going to win. And to answer your second question: no, I don’t, even though he should,” Sam can almost hear her flip her hair. She continues. “So, I’m going to practice in the auditorium until my vocal chords bleed.”

“You’re at the school?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to bother my parents and I just prefer singing in here, anyway.”

Sam doesn’t have a response so he just stays silent. So does Tina, and right before it’s about to get awkward, she speaks up.

“Well, I have to go. Sorry I didn’t stop by today. Expect me tomorrow.”

Sam groans. “Bye, Tina.”

“Bye, Sam. See you tomorrow.”

* * *

 

“Do you believe in God?” Sam asks Blaine one night while they’re watching Iron Man in Blaine’s room.

Blaine turns to him in confusion. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, I was just wondering. We’ve never talked about it.”

Blaine considers the question before answering slowly. “I believe in something, I guess. I know there’s some higher…thing out there, but I just don’t know if it’s necessarily  _your_  God,” he says. “No offense,” he adds.

“Do you ever pray?”

“Not unless it’s during a show circle or something,” he hesitates. “Does this make you see me differently?”

Sam shakes his head. “No, of course not. You’re still my bro. I was just asking because I’ve kind of been a little conflicted about God and stuff lately.”

Blaine turns to him completely. “How so?”

Sam shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve always just taken it as fact that God exists and we have to live by a certain set of rules and that following those rules will get me to Heaven, which exists. And now…” he stops and avoids Blaine’s eyes. “Now that I’m thinking about it, I’m just beginning to wonder why any of it matters when awful things can happen to people who don’t deserve it.”

“Like Stacey?” Blaine asks gently.

“Yeah, but also you and my mom and Artie and all of these people who are so good but have bad things happen to them.”

“Well, we have to feel pain, Sam,” Blaine says. “The only reason people know what joy feels like is because we have pain to compare it to.”

“But it’s just not fair, you know?” Sam stands and begins to pace Blaine’s tiny room. “I always just  _believed_  all this stuff. I never thought about it, but I followed it because my heart said it was right and because everyone told me that if I pray and I worship and I follow all of these rules, God would be good to me. And now I’m living with my friends’ parents and my sister’s dead and I’m an idiot who can’t get into college and I’m asking myself what I did wrong!”

Blaine’s face has fallen and Sam can’t look at him; he can’t bear to see that look of pity.

“I try so hard, Blaine,” he says, his voice thick. “I try to be this person that everyone wants me to be, but I feel like God doesn’t care about me anymore. I feel like he stopped believing in me,”

“No,” Blaine says, standing and walking to his friend. “You stopped believing in yourself because of a stupid test score that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means something to colleges. It means something where it matters,” Sam retorts, pulling away from Blaine’s extended hand. “And even if it didn’t matter, I still can’t spell for shit and I still can’t afford to re-take it again and my sister is still dead.”

Sam walks out and Blaine calls after him, but he doesn’t turn back. He climbs into Carole’s car, which she let him borrow, and turns up the country station.

He picks up a box of wine at a liquor store on the way home and no one cards him.

* * *

 

He’s on his second glass when he thinks that he shouldn’t drink alone.

**_To: Tina_ ** _\- Come hav some wine w me_

**_From: Tina_ ** _– ew, no_

**_To: Tina_ ** _– Arnt u obligated to since ur like a helper or something_

**_From: Tina_ ** _– where are you and why don’t you just ask artie or something_

**_To: Tina_ ** _– home duh and i want to drink wit u not artie_

**_From: Tina_ ** _– where are burt and carole?_

**_To: Tina_ ** _– its there date nite_

**_From: Tina_ ** _– i’ll be right over. you owe me._

Sam almost forgets she’s coming until she knocks on the door twice and barges in.

“Don’t take my wine away,” Sam says quickly. “I’m not drunk.”

Tina examines his eyes and posture. She seems to believe him, so she sits down at the kitchen table with him and pours herself some wine into a cup.

“How did you even get this?”

“Just walked in and bought it. No one carded me.”

She takes a sip and grimaces. “This isn’t even good wine.”

“Yeah, well, it was the cheapest one.”

“I can tell.”

They don’t say much after that, just sip slowly from their cups and look around the room. Sometimes they look at each other and make faces, but they mostly just drink.

“I heard you blew up at Blaine at his house,” Tina offers.

“I heard you molested Blaine at his house,” Sam retorts.

“Fair enough,” Tina says with a haughty look. “But at least I apologized.”

“At least I know what boundaries are,”

“You know what  _physical_  boundaries are,” Tina says sharply. “But you don’t really know when  _not_  to say something.”

Sam laughs dryly. “Oh,  _I’m_  the one who doesn’t know when to shut up?”

“When have I ever said anything mean to you?”

“Like twenty seconds ago!”

“Have I ever said something to embarrass you or remind you of something that you’re ashamed of and would rather forget?”

“You know what your problem is, Tina?” She doesn’t answer, so he continues. “You help people before they ask, and then you think that makes you entitled to something. Reality check: you’re not! Just because you help Blaine get over a cold and come over here every day doesn’t mean we have to be your friends!”

“There’s nothing wrong with helping people,” Tina says defensively.

“Yeah, well, maybe you should ask them before you help them.”

Tina takes a sip of her wine. “Thank you for enlightening me.”

Sam watches as she slams what’s left in her cup and pours more from the box.

“You want to hear yours now?”

Sam gulps, then nods. “Hit me.”

Tina smirks. “You’re a great person, Sam. Even though you take joy in my embarrassment, you’re just a really good human being.”

“Thanks?”

“But you’re full of fear. God, you’re so full of it, it makes me sick.”

“Gee, thanks,”

“You’re afraid of being wrong, so you just make jokes and play up this idea you have that you’re stupid, which you’re  _not._  You’re afraid of getting attached to people because they always hurt you, but then you’re left with these vapid relationships that you end up getting way too attached to anyway,”

“Like who?” he asks, a bite in his voice.

“Well, Brittany, mostly,”

“I loved her,” he retorts.

“Yeah, sure you did. We all do! Brittany’s great, you can be yourself around her, she doesn’t judge you, unless you’re me,” Tina adds the last part with a growl in her voice. “But you knew that wouldn’t last.”

“So that’s one person. Doesn’t exactly prove that you’re right, and to be honest, you’re just as full of fear as I am.”

Tina sighs and takes a drink of her wine. “You know what, Sam? The worst thing about you is that it’s hard to find anything wrong with you. You’re nice and funny and good to your girlfriends and loyal and good-looking – where’s the fault? Everyone has a fault, but all yours seem to be is fear and your obvious dislike of me.”

“I like you,” he intercedes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever; no one likes me, I get it. I don’t want your pity, it’s just a fact. The point I’m trying to make is that there’s something below the surface that’s going to blow up in everyone’s face if you don’t deal with it.”

 _It’s just a fact._  The phrase rings through him, and for some reason, he sees Tina in a new light. He thinks that maybe they have more in common than he thought, an insecurity that is deep in their bones, but that they bury so deep that hardly anyone gets to see it.

“I like you,” he insists. “You have a cool taste in clothes and you’re always helping everyone out and you can be fun.”

She groans. “Ugh, stop! Can we go back to fighting and drinking your bad wine? Tell me about the God Squad, I want to hear about Joe Hart being a ‘leader’,” she holds her fingers up for air quotes on the last word.

He eyes her carefully, unnerved by her change of subject, but tells her anyway. “It’s alright. I don’t even know if I believe in all that anymore, but it’s nice to be around nice people.”

“Been there,” Tina says with a sigh.

“What do you mean?”

“Not knowing if you believe anymore. I went through something like that when my little cousin died in eighth grade.”

“What did you do? I mean, you still believe, right?”

Tina nods. “Yeah, sure. But, at the time, it all felt so pointless. Like, what’s God doing up there if little babies are dying, you know?”

Sam nods and takes a swig of wine. He knows all too well.

“And I just couldn’t feel it anymore when I prayed; that…calm. That sureness. This sounds stupid, but I thought He wasn’t there anymore.”

Sam feels like the words are stuck in his throat, but she doesn’t need any prompting to continue.

“And I got so mad and I remember my parents didn’t know what to say to me. It’s not like we even went to church; I’m the only one who ever went and it was just kind of something I believed in, but I still felt so…betrayed, I guess. So I stopped praying and stuff until one day I just couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t have any friends and I felt so alone that I was scared, so I tried it again. And I just…I knew that what was wrong before was that I wasn’t praying with my whole heart the way I was supposed to.”

Tina stares down at her cup as though she’s seeing it for the first time.

“I’m sorry. I try not to ramble.”

Sam wants to snort and tell her that she’s been rambling every day that she comes over, but he can’t. He just keeps thinking about how much she’s making sense and how much he wants to go to church in the morning.

“Do you want to come to church with me tomorrow?” he asks her without thinking.

“You’re Catholic, right?”

“Yeah,” he doesn’t ask how she knows that.

“I don’t know…”

“Please? I’ll ask Blaine to come, too.”

She hesitates, and then nods. “Okay. I’ll go.”

They sit in silence for another fifteen minutes before he tells her that she can sleep in Finn’s bed for the night. She nods and texts her mom that’s she’s staying with Kurt (to avoid awkward questions, she says), and Sam writes a note to Burt and Carole explaining that Tina stayed a little later than they’d wanted while studying. He hides the box of wine in Kurt’s mini-fridge and falls into bed.


	4. Lonely Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is discussion of drowning in this chapter.

He walks upstairs the next morning with a headache to find Burt and Tina chatting over the counter. She turns to him with a bright smile, her green dress barely rumpled.

“You’re awake! I’ll be back to pick you up for church, but I’m going to go home and change first.”

Sam nods, having forgotten about church altogether and a little thrown by seeing Tina first thing in the morning.

“I’m going to head out. Thanks for the toast, Mr. Hummel, and don’t forget to call Blaine, Sam! I’ll see you in a bit.”

She walks out before either of the men can say anything. After the door shuts, Burt turns to him.

“She’s certainly chipper for this early in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Sam murmurs in response.

“She your girlfriend now?”

Sam grimaces. “Hell no.”

Burt snorts and holds his hands up. “Hey, just asking. She seems to like you.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “She’s trying to get on my good side,”

Burt shrugs and Sam looks around for his cell.

His phone rests on the kitchen table and he flips it open to call Blaine.

“Hello?” Blaine’s voice is cautious and worried.

“Hey, bro, I’m sorry about taking off yesterday. I shouldn’t have blown up at you like that,”

Burt looks at him curiously and Sam shrugs before turning his attention to Blaine.

“It’s okay, man. I’m just glad you’re okay. Tina told me she was going to go hang out with you?”

“Yeah, she left like two minutes ago,” Blaine starts to ask questions, but Sam keep talking. “Don’t get any funny ideas, she slept in Finn’s room and we just talked. But now we’re supposed to go to church together and I was hoping you would come with us.”

“Church?”

“Yeah,”

Blaine’s quiet, but answers quietly, “Sure, I’ll go. I’ll get ready and be over soon.”

* * *

 

They walk into the church and Sam feels a little ashamed at having not been there in so long. They all slide into a pew near the back and wait for Mass to begin. They all somehow dressed in some shade of blue and they get a few curious looks from the people who regularly go there.

“I feel so weird in a Catholic church. Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” Blaine worries.

“Stop it,” Tina whispers. “You’re not going to burn up or anything,” she pauses. “I think.”

Sam almost chuckles but holds it in and instead gives his friends a look that silences them.

The service begins and Tina and Blaine follow his every move. He feels weird, being the one who knows what to do instead of following after one of them like he usually does.

When it’s time to receive Communion, he turns to them. “You can stay here or you can go get the blessing. Up to you,”

Blaine shakes his head. “I’ll stay here.”

“What’s the blessing?” Tina asks.

“You just go up there and cross your arms like this,” he shows her. “And the priest just blesses you.”

She thinks about it and nods resolutely. “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

He lets her walk ahead of him and he studies the changing shades of her hair as they slowly make their way to the front of the line.

Father John blesses Tina and she steps aside to wait for Sam.

Sam steps forward with his palms out like he’s done so many times.

“The Body of Christ,”

“Amen.”

The bread tastes like a memory and he swallows easily. The wine washes across his gums and down his throat, but the taste of the bread is still hiding beneath the heaviness of the alcohol.

Tina links her arm through his and leads him back to the pew.

Sam pulls the kneeler down and falls into the position he’s known his whole life. Tina and Blaine stay seated, but they each put a hand on one of his shoulders.

He can’t really do it anymore, he discovers. Even though he knows that he needs to pray with his whole heart, it’s hard to get past the anger that accompanies Stacey’s death. Instead he just thinks of her.

* * *

 

“I want to hold her now, Dad,” Sam whines, swinging his legs in the chair next to his mom’s hospital bed.

“Give me a second, son,” Dwight replies as he smiles down at the baby girl in his arms. Stevie is cuddled up on the bed next to Mary and he seems content with soaking up his mom’s attention for the time being.

“Daaaad,”

“Okay, sit up straight. You have to be careful.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “I know how to hold a baby, Dad. I held Stevie a bunch of times.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, big guy. Hold your arms out.”

Sam obeys and stares in awe at the baby his father carefully places into his arms. She’s soft and tiny and he’s afraid to break her.

“Wow,” he breathes while being over-conscious of the pressure of his arms against her little body. “She’s beautiful.”

Mary and Dwight share a smile while their eldest child kisses the head of his baby sister.

* * *

 

Sam doesn’t realize that Blaine and Tina have led him out of the church until they’re in Tina’s car.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he pulls Blaine into a hug and sobs into his shirt.

* * *

 

They drive aimlessly until Sam declares that he’s ready to go back to the Hummel-Hudson’s.

He’s more aware now, knows that he began to cry in the pew and that his friends had to take him out due to the volume of his sobs. He knows that Blaine and Tina are worried in the front seat and don’t know what to do, so he just tries to make it seem like he’s over it.

They walk inside with him and settle in the living room. Tina looks through the movies and puts on The Watchmen before settling down on the other side of Sam. Both are pressed close to his side and it’s almost too warm, but he finds the pressure comforting and grounding when he feels so distressed.

The familiarity of his friends and the movie begins to let a kind of calm settle over him. He lets himself be engrossed in the plot he already knows by heart, teasing with Tina and Blaine during the sex scenes and getting pumped during the fights.

When the credits begin to roll, Tina stands and stretches before declaring that she should head home. Blaine follows apologetically and they both hug him before walking out the front door to their cars, Blaine having parked there before church.

Sam waves them both goodbye and walks to his room. He tries praying before going to bed, and it’s not the same as it was before, but he can feel himself hope again before falling asleep.

* * *

 

As Tina predicted, they win Regionals, though not without some struggle. Ryder and Brittany almost don’t even show up and the other groups are a lot better than expected, but they take it in the end.

When he’s onstage, Sam feels more alive than he’s felt in a long time.

* * *

 

Tina’s after school visits became few and far between because she gets busy with college applications and preparing for Nationals, but Sam finds himself hanging out with her more and more without the company of Blaine like they’d always done before. They often walk together in the hallways or stay after Glee Club to pick up the room.

Sam realizes that he actually likes her. Not romantically, necessarily, but he genuinely enjoys her company. She’s funny, but always has something nice to say about people, even Kitty. He figures out that the bitchiness is a power play for her: if people think they need to prove something to her, then she has a sense of control over how people view her, even if it’s in a bad way.

They spend so much time together that Artie confronts Sam after Glee Club one day.

“Are you and Tina dating?” He asks point-blank in the hallway.

Sam laughs. “No way,” He tries to step around Artie, but he won’t let him pass.

Artie narrows his eyes. “I hope you’re not lying to me, Sam. I had assumed we were friends, but you should know that my loyalty will always lie with Tina in the case of any breakup or bad blood.”

Sam frowns. “Didn’t she cheat on you or something?”

Artie raises his nose and avoids Sam’s eyes. “In any case, she’s my oldest friend. And no matter how close she gets with Blaine, I think it’s obvious that  _I_ am her best friend. As her best friend, there are obligations I have to fulfill, and one of them is making sure you treat her right.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Okay, but we’re not dating, dude. We’re just friends. We can barely stand to be around each other without Blaine there.” He says the last sentence with a bit of hesitation, knowing that it’s not exactly true anymore.

Artie seems to catch this and gives him a knowing look. “Whatever the case, you should just know that she’s not as tough as she seems. I know she’s changed a lot this year, but that old Tina didn’t just disappear,” he lowers his voice, looking around as if to make sure she’s not around. “She’s strong, but she’s sensitive, no matter how she acts.”

Sam nods, remembering when Tina had broken down in the choir room on Valentine’s Day during sophomore year. He looks at Artie earnestly. “We’re not dating,” he repeats. Before Artie can respond, he continues. “But if we were, which I doubt will ever happen, I’ll keep that in mind. To be honest, dude, I’m kind of busy dealing with other things.”

Artie opens his mouth as if to apologize, but shuts it and nods. Sam is just grateful he doesn’t have to hear another trite apology.

As he wheels away, Artie turns back and points at his eyes, then Sam’s threateningly. Sam smiles and shakes his head before heading home.

* * *

 

“So are you going to try church again?” Blaine asks cautiously after a student council meeting.

Sam eyes him curiously. “Maybe. Why do you ask?”

Blaine shrugs. “I don’t know. I kind of liked it. Even if I don’t necessarily believe in all that, the music was pretty and it was…nice. I like seeing people believe in something like that.”

“Do you want to come with me again?”

Blaine takes a breath, hesitating, and then let’s out a sheepish smile. “Yeah, if that’s cool with you.”

Sam chuckles. “Of course, man. Do you want to stay at the house on Saturday night? Tina’s probably going to come bother me, so we can make a night of it.” He doesn’t actually know if Tina is going to visit him, but he figures that even if she doesn’t, she can come hang with them.

Blaine tilts his head in surprise and examines Sam as though he’s searching for an answer for a question he didn’t ask.

“What?” Sam asks nervously.

Blaine shakes his head and composes himself. “Nothing. But yeah, that sounds fun; I’ll let Tina know so that she can just bring her church clothes and stuff in case she decides to come with us again.”

Sam nods in agreement and packs his bag, unaware of Blaine’s look of dawning comprehension, followed by a small smile.

* * *

 

When Sam walks into a God Squad meeting and sees Mercedes and Quinn, he practically screams. They smile at his tight hugs and both hold him longer than usual.

“I didn’t even know you guys were back! Why didn’t you go to Glee Club?” he asks, out of breath for no reason other than excitement.

Quinn smiles serenely and answers. “Well, it’s actually a coincidence that we’re both back, but when we found out the other was here, we spent the day together and accidentally missed Glee. But we figured it would be cool to check out the God Squad again.”

Mercedes nods in agreement. “We both needed a little guidance and figured this would be a good place to go,” she looks around the room and smiles when Fiona and Dottie walk in. “Are you the president now?”

Sam opens his mouth to answer, but as if on cue, Joe walks in with Kitty.

“Is everyone ready to start?” he asks before spotting Quinn and Mercedes. For the first time, Sam sees something almost sad flit across Joe’s features at the sight of Quinn before his usual smile replaces it. “Mercedes! Quinn! It’s so great to see you guys,” he exclaims before walking over and giving them big hugs.

“Joe runs the club now,” Sam explains to the girls. “I got busy at the beginning of the year and he filled in. He’s doing a great job,” he adds truthfully.

Mercedes looks impressed and turns to get Quinn’s opinion, but the latter is a few feet away talking quietly with Joe. Sam and Mercedes watch as Quinn leans up to whisper in Joe’s ear before hugging him tightly. Joe seems more at ease and has a genuine smile on his face as he hugs her.

“Are we going to start or not?” Kitty drawls from her seat at the table. “I’m going to miss Survivor if we don’t hurry this up.”

Mercedes gives Kitty a grimace and Sam holds back a chuckle at the look. Quinn nods and Joe gives the group a grin.

“It looks like we have some alums with us today! Kitty and Sam already know them, but Dottie and Fiona, this is Mercedes Jones and Quinn Fabray. They ran the God Squad last year,”

“Mercedes did, actually,” Quinn intercedes, smiling at her friend.

Joe nods. “They’re going to drop in on the meeting. They both need a little spiritual help and I think this is a good place to go, don’t you?”

The rest of them agree and he begins the meeting.

They talk about their upcoming fundraisers and discuss the book of Philippians for a while before offering prayer requests and bowing for Joe’s closing prayer. As usual, he prays for their lost family members, but he also prays for Quinn and Mercedes to find guidance and truth.

They all say ‘amen’ and begin to pack their things. Sam didn’t bring anything, so he stands to leave, but decides to stick around to talk to Mercedes and Quinn.

The former walks to him and stands by his side to look at Joe. “He’s doing a really good job,” she says decisively.

“He really is,” Sam agrees.

“That boy is going to change lives,” Quinn says from his other side. Sam jumps, having not noticed her approach. She continues, “I’ve never met anyone like him.”

Sam agrees and they all turn to each other. Joe bids them goodbye as he leaves the room and they’re left alone. None of them say anything, and they laugh awkwardly at the silence.

“It’s really good to see you guys,” Sam says finally. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Quinn confesses. “Both of you.”

“Ditto,” Mercedes agrees.

“Do you guys want to get dinner?” Quinn offers. “My treat?”

Sam is about to say ‘yes’ when he remembers that he has plans.

“Oh, man, I have to study for my history final tomorrow with Tina,” he says regretfully.

“Tina?” Mercedes asks curiously with a smirk.

“Yeah, she’s really smart,” Sam answers wearily, hoping he doesn’t have to deal with another lecture like he did with Artie.

“That she is,” Quinn agrees, sharing a smile with Mercedes. “She’s also very pretty,”

Sam groans. “Not you guys, too. There’s nothing happening there!”

Mercedes steps back playfully. “No one said there was!” She winks before softening her expression. “It would still be nice to hang out, though. Do you want a ride back? Quinn is riding with me, too.”

Sam smiles and nods. “That would be great.”

They get into Mercedes’ car and decide to cruise around a bit before taking Sam back to the Hummel-Hudson’s.

“How are you, really, Sam?” Quinn inquires seriously.

Sam looks down at his hands in the backseat. “I’m doing okay. A little better than before, I suppose. I feel like I can laugh now, but it still feels…wrong without her.”

Quinn nods and Mercedes speaks up. “Have you been going to church and talking to people about it?”

“I went to church twice, but I couldn’t really get through it,” Sam admits. “It was too hard to think of her. It’s hard for me to…” he trails off.

“Keep believing in Him?” Quinn finishes, and he nods sheepishly. “I understand.”

Sam knows she does.

“Have you been talking to like a psychologist or anything?” Mercedes asks.

He shakes his head. “Not really. I mean, I have to see Miss Pillsbury once a week, but no one else besides Blaine and Tina and Joe.”

“Well, maybe you should see someone professional,” Quinn considers. “It could help. God knows I wish someone had suggested it to me after all the Beth stuff. I didn’t get help until my car accident.”

Mercedes nods. “It’s a good idea, Sam. Will you at least consider it?”

“Yeah, totally,” he says, though part of him feels like he’s only saying it to please them.

They both seem so different to him. They’d never felt older to him before, but now they do. He’s always viewed them as something close to perfect, but now they’re like a different kind of beautiful: something unreachable. It makes him sad and proud at the same time. He’s always known they would do great things, and now they are; it just makes him feel more broken by comparison, though.

* * *

 

The Friday before he goes to church with Blaine and Tina again, Sam wakes up angry.

He sleeps through his alarm and has to rush getting ready so that Burt can give him a ride to school. He only manages to grab some toast from Carole, which he hates doing because breakfast is so important. When he gets to school, there’s a couple making out in front of his locker, and it takes everything he has to not just push them out of the way. To top it off, by the time he gets to his English class, he finds out that they have to take a quiz on the reading from the night before, and he hadn’t finished it.

By the time he gets to Glee, Sam is annoyed and unresponsive. Tina and Blaine quickly learn that he isn’t in the mood the talk, but the others still greet him cheerily and ask him about his day. He answers shortly and rudely, getting looks ranging from apologetic to offended.

He mindlessly goes through the rehearsal, following the dancing the best he can and learning his harmonies and solo lines in the group number. Mr. Schue still hasn’t chosen a ballad for them to do, and Tina still hasn’t brought up her audition idea in class. Today, though, she does.

“Mr. Schuester?” she calls, raising her hand as they stand in the auditorium.

“Yes, Tina?”

She swallows and Sam can almost see her put out some sort of armor, expecting a denial.

“I think we should have auditions for a Nationals solo.”

Mr. Schue bites his lip in consideration, and Sam can tell he’s trying to figure out how to say ‘no’.

“Before you say ‘no’, I just want to say that it’s the most fair way for us to give a solo,” she adds.

“I don’t know, Tina; that just feels kind of mean to me. I don’t want to have to choose between you guys like that.”

Anger crosses Tina’s face before she composes herself. “With all due respect, Mr. Schue, what actually feels mean to us is giving solos to people for no reason other than their failed auditions or the fact that they’re you’re favorite.”

“Tina-,” he begins angrily, but she holds up her hands.

“Just forget it, Mr. Schue. It was a dumb idea.”

His face softens. “It wasn’t-,”

“I need to go,” she walks swiftly to the side to pick up her bag. “I’m sorry for interrupting rehearsal.”

For some reason, her saying that sets Sam off. He’s just so  _annoyed_  at her for giving up on it so easily, but that’s not what he says.

“God, Tina, grow a damn spine!” he says. “No one cares about some solos you didn’t get, and the reason Mr. Schue doesn’t want to have the auditions is because no one wants to hear you complain when you don’t get one!”

The room falls silent and there is shock on everyone’s faces. Even Tina looks shocked for a moment before her features fall into a sort of numb stoniness. Sam is still so angry at everything that he doesn’t feel bad, but part of him is sorry, and that part only grows when he sees her begin to crumble and her eyes start to water.

She opens her mouth as if to speak, but closes it instead and turns sharply. Her shoes click as she leaves the auditorium.

“Tina,” Blaine says from his side. Both of them step forward to go after her, but Sam is pushed aside roughly by Artie’s chair.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Artie asks before wheeling after her.

Sam knows what’s wrong, but he can’t face it.

* * *

 

On Sam’s first day at McKinley, he sees Karofsky roughly push the Asian girl from New Directions into a locker. She looks down in fear after he walks away and Sam knows he should confront the football player and get angry with him for hurting a girl, but it’s his first day and he doesn’t want to ruffle any feathers.

He walks away.

* * *

 

“This needs to stop, bro,” Joe says from behind as he’s walking down the hallway.

Sam sighs and doesn’t stop walking. “I’m not in the mood, dude.”

Suddenly, a hand is on his shoulder, forcing him to turn around.

“What the hell?” Sam yells angrily, pushing Joe away.

Teen Jesus looks  _angry_ , and that freaks Sam out more than anything.

“You have to stop treating people like this! I know you’re hurting, but you need come to terms with what happened before it eats you alive.”

Sam throws his arms up. “How am I supposed to do that? How am I supposed to accept that my  _little sister_  is dead? I can’t even pray anymore, man; how am I supposed to accept this?”

Sam expects Joe to soften his anger or something, but he doesn’t; if anything, he’s more forceful.

“The reason you can’t pray is because you’re angry at God for doing this to you. God didn’t do this to  _you_ , Sam. He did it to Stacey, and He has reasons for that, and you can’t spend your life hating everything because you don’t understand why. You have accept that she’s gone and that’s it’s not anyone’s fault and you have  _let Him into your heart_. If you don’t, you’ll just be consumed by this negative energy that will kill you.”

Joe’s eyes shine with tears and Sam is hit by a wave of understanding. It’s as if everything he’s refused to admit, every bit of truth that Joe just spoke, clicks in his head and his body is overwhelmed with the clarity and the pain of acknowledging that Stacey is gone forever. He slowly walks backwards into the lockers and slides down to the floor.

It’s as if his body begins to cry before his eyes do. His shoulders shake and his body heaves with dry sobs before the actual tears begin to fall.

Joe takes a seat next to him and wraps an arm around Sam’s shoulders.

“My little brother, Solomon, drowned the summer before I started here.”

Sam’s sobs go quiet as he waits for Joe to continue. Joe removes his arm and crosses it with his other one.

“I was supposed to walk with him down to the river so we could swim together, but I was busy writing a song and I told him to wait five minutes. I kept saying that, and he kept coming back and asking if it was time yet, and I just…yelled at him. Told him to leave me alone and that I’d be ready when I was ready,” Joe looks down at his hands. “I’d never really yelled at anyone like that before. He looked so sad, and he just left.

“I felt bad, you know? So I went looking for him, but I couldn’t find him anywhere in the house, so I checked outside and he wasn’t there either, so I ran down to the river. I could…” he trails off and clears his throat. “I could see his little hand sticking out of the water,” his voice breaks and Sam doesn’t know what to do except pat his back. “And I tried to go in, but the current was stronger than it should have been and I—,” he cuts off and breathes deeply. “I couldn’t get to him in time. By the time I caught him, it was too late.”

Both sit silently, the occasional sniffle passing between them.

“He was eight,” Joe says quietly. “Wednesday would have been his birthday.”

Sam turns to him in surprise. “The day of that God Squad meeting?”

Joe nods. “Yep. I think God sent Quinn and Mercedes to me for strength or something, because I really needed it,” he admits. “Especially Quinn.”

“How do you do it?” Sam asks, desperation in his eyes. “How do you stop hurting like this all the time?”

“You forgive,” Joe answers simply. “You have accept that you will always love her, but that’s she’s gone, and she wouldn’t want you to be like this. What would she think about you hurting Tina like that?”

“She’d hate it,” Sam answers quickly. “I hate myself for it.” He looks down and feels a new rush of tears begin to swell. “I just missed so much of her time here, you know? What with boarding school and working and then transferring back to McKinley…I just feel like I missed so much.”

Joe takes his hand and Sam doesn’t feel weird about it at all. It’s comforting, really.

“You have to forgive yourself, too. I know from experience, though, that that part takes longer.”

* * *

 

 

The moment Sam walks into the Hummel-Hudson’s, Burt tosses him his truck keys and tells him to go visit his family if he wants to.


	5. Finding Shelter In Things We Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter before the epilogue. Thank you so much for reading. :)

Sam decides not to go to his parents’ house right away. First, he takes a detour along a narrow dirt road to the countryside cemetery where Stacey lies. 

The grass is a bit overgrown and on his way to her little plot, he pulls weeds out of the ground near other graves. He reads every name and little phrase on the headstones and thinks about how every single person there had a story; they had families and people who, at one time, cared about them. Someone had cried over them; at least, Sam hopes someone did.

He pulls the weeds that surround a Drew McAllister and finally gets to Stacey.

_Stacey Grace Evans_

_April 23, 2005 – February 16, 2013_

_Beloved Sister, Daughter, and Friend_

Sam sits gingerly next to her grave and pulls the weeds out from around her.

“Sorry I haven’t come to visit you more, Stacey,” he manages to get out. “It’s been kind of tough since you left.

“Stevie misses you so much, Stace. He hasn’t been the same, I can tell. I mean, I haven’t seen him yet, but from what Mom says, him and Dad have been kind of lost without you. So have I.”

He stops to comb his fingers through the grass. He presses his hand flat against the earth and can feel his pulse beating through him. He pretends that he’s feeling Stacey’s life within him; it makes him feel like she can hear him.

“I was mean to one of my friends today. Like, really mean. And she’s been so nice to me and I feel so bad about it. I think she reminds me of that day too much. She drove me to Kentucky to see you, and now, when I’m with her, I end up thinking about that. I just wish you were  _here_ , sis. I wish I could hold you and listen to you tell me about the kids at school or what you had for lunch or—,”

He stops to wipe his eyes and get his breath under control. There’s some sort of bug crawling toward him on the ground, but he doesn’t kill it. Something just seems wrong about killing something in a cemetery, so he flicks it away from him instead.

“I’m sorry this happened to you, Stacey. I’m glad you’re with God, though; I’m glad you’re in Heaven.”

Sam gets the urge to pray, and he doesn’t hesitate for even a moment. He crawls to his knees quickly and bows his head. He starts with an apology to God for being so absent, and he can feel it: the peace.

It swells and sloshes through his body like the sea on a windy day, soaking every nerve and bone and ounce of flesh with an easy calmness that he hasn’t felt in months. The more he prays, the more he knows that God is with him and listening, and part of him wants to shout and cry and smile and laugh at the idea, but the peace holds him in place so he can pray.

He prays for Stacey and Solomon and all the kids in the God Squad, for his friends in Glee and his family, for his teachers and especially Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury…he prays so long that the sun goes down and he knows he should just go straight back to Ohio instead of going to see his parents.

He stands and he already feels lighter and more focused. Everything is clearer, somehow, as though he’d been wearing cloudy glasses for the past few months.

“I’ll bring you flowers next time, Stacey. And maybe I’ll bring my friends if I’m ready.”

Sam kisses his palm and kneels down briefly to press it to the ground. He stands back up, brushes off his pants, and walks out of the cemetery with a heart that is still heavy, but already so much lighter.

* * *

 

Sam’s doing homework in the bathroom of their hotel room when there’s a light knock at the door.

“Come in,” he says softly, rubbing his eyes. He figures he should go to bed soon, but he only has a few problems left for his pre-calc assignment, and he would rather do them now and nap during his free period rather than try to do them tomorrow.

The doorknob turns and Stacey walks in.

“What are you doing up?” Sam asks, putting down his pencil and holding his arms out to her. She shuffles over and falls into them, cuddling her face into his chest.

“I had a nightmare,” she replies, her voice muffled.

“About what?”

Stacey sniffles a bit before answering. “We were in a different house and I dreamed that a monster pulled me out of my new bed and then the house disappeared and it was just me and it was dark,”

Sam’s not sure how to respond. All he knows is that he hates their circumstances; he hates that his little sister’s worst fear is that she’ll get a home, only to have it taken away from her. Most of all, he hates that it’s become his worst fear, too.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says after a few minutes, tilting her chin so she looks up at him. “As long as I’m around, you’ll never be alone, Stacey Grace. Even if we have no house, I will  _always_  be here to protect you, and so will Mom and Dad and Stevie.”

“You promise?” Stacey asks, holding out her pinky.

Sam smiles and hooks his pinky with hers. “I promise.”

* * *

 

When Sam gets to the truck, he sees that he has five missed calls from Blaine, one each from Carole, Burt, and Finn, and six texts from his other friends. He makes a mental note to respond to them, but he doesn’t have the energy to talk to anyone but two people right now.

He sends a text to Burt telling him that he’s on his way back, and then promptly dials Tina’s number. As expected, she doesn’t answer and sends him to voicemail after two rings.

“Hey, Tina. I know you’re mad at me and I’m not even sure if you’ll listen to this, but I really need to talk to you and I want to apologize to you in person…if you’ll let me.”

He hangs up and leans his head back against the seat. Not a minute later, Blaine calls him and Sam answers with trepidation, worried that Blaine is angry with him for what happened with Tina.

“Hello?”

“So, you’re alive.”

He snorts. “Yes. I’m surprised you’re talking to me, to be honest.”

Blaine sighs. “I’m not happy with you, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re one of my best friends. I still worry. Where have you been, anyway?”

Sam takes a breath. “Visiting Stacey.”

Blaine is quiet for a few long moments before responding. “Are you okay?”

“A lot better than I’ve been. Honest. Is Tina with you?”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t want to talk to you,” Blaine answers instantly. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”

“No, I get it. Just tell her that I would really like to talk to her soon.”

“Will do.”

Sam lets out breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. “Well, I’m going to start the drive back. Are you still staying with me tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds like a good break from all the stress.”

They say their goodbyes and Sam turns the key in the ignition after hanging up. He’s about to pull out when he gets a text from Tina.

**_From: Tina_ ** _– I’m still mad at you and I don’t want to talk to you right now but I guess you should know that I hope you’re okay and I’m praying for you. Don’t answer this unless it’s a life or death situation._

* * *

 

Blaine knocks on the door and barely shakes Burt’s hand before he’s pulling Sam into a tight hug.

“Dude, I’m okay,” Sam assures him, patting his back.

“I know,” Blaine says after they pull apart. “I just figured that it was hard. I wish you would’ve taken me with.”

“Nah,” Sam shakes his head. “It was something I needed to do alone. For the first time, anyway. I’m taking you and Tina next time. If she ever speaks to me again,” he adds.

“She’ll come around,” Blaine promises. “She always does, eventually.”

“That just makes me feel worse,” Sam groans, leading the way to living room and falling onto the couch. “She shouldn’t just forgive me. She should hate me forever.”

“What’s going on with you two?” Blaine asks and Sam yells in frustration. “No, don’t act like that. Really, what’s going on there? And don’t say that it’s nothing, because it’s clearly more than that.”

“Honestly?” Sam asks. Blaine nods. “I don’t really know. I didn’t even really  _like_  her before, you know? I just hung out with her because you hung out with her or because she was with Mike so much last year, but now…I don’t know, we’re a lot more alike than I thought. Even though she can be a bitch and a pushover at the same time, she’s like…good, you know? She has a good heart.”

“Do you like her?”

“Duh,” Sam replies instantly. “She’s my friend, dude. Of course I like her.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “I mean, do you  _like_  her? As more than a friend?”

Sam doesn’t know how to answer, and Blaine considers that one in itself.

* * *

 

After Sam takes Stevie and Stacey to school for the end of Rumors week, neither of them can stop talking about it for days. Stevie tries to break into his guitar case more often than usual and Stacey stands in front of the mirror with a hair brush, making weird faces like Rachel or swaying like Quinn.

“All the girls in Glee Club are so pretty,” Stacey gushes one day. “Quinn is the prettiest, but they all are.”

Sam smiles from the desk, where he’s working on a paper that he’ll type in the morning at the library. “I have to say I agree with you, Stace.”

“And all the boys are so handsome!”

“Whoa, now,” Sam says, putting down his pencil and turning to her. “None of that. No boyfriends until you’re thirty,”

“Sammy,” Stacey whines. “That’s not fair, you had two girlfriends already!”

“Irrelevant,” Sam states, trying not to grin.

Stacey wrinkles her nose. “What does that mean?”

“I’ll let you know when I know,” Sam says, and Stacey smiles.

* * *

 

As usual, Blaine falls asleep in the middle of a sentence. They’d been talking about the Buckeyes when Blaine had conked out in the midst of lauding their defensive tactics. Sam’s turning out the light and about to fall asleep when he gets a text.

**_From: Tina_ ** _– Come outside._

Sam hurries to slip on a hoodie and slowly makes his way through the house until he’s opening the door to see Tina sitting on the porch. She doesn’t turn around when Sam steps out, just keeps looking down at her phone.

He hesitates, but eventually sits next to her, leaving a few inches of space between them.

“What’s up?” he asks. She turns to him without amusement and he turns away in embarrassment.

“I don’t want to be mad at you,” Tina says after a few minutes. “Sometimes it feels like there’s too much anger in me at one time, and I don’t want anymore.” Sam opens his mouth to tell her she can be mad at him, but she continues. “But it hurt. I mean, I’ve embarrassed myself so many times in Glee Club that I don’t really care about that at this point, but just the idea that you didn’t think I could get a solo…I don’t know why that bothers me so much.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Tina. You know that I think you’re talented.”

“I know I’m not the best singer in the world,” Tina continues, as though she hadn’t heard him. “But I guess I figured people respected what talent I  _do_  have. Apparently not.”

“Tina—,”

“And it hurt to think that someone who is my friend—one of my  _best_  friends—would think that I’m not good enough, and that I’m deluding myself into thinking I am.”

Sam wants to beg her to stop, but she just keeps going.

“It fucking hurt,” Sam’s taken aback by her cursing. It seems strange to hear such a bad word from a voice as pure as Tina’s. “And even if you don’t think you meant it, it came from somewhere. That thought didn’t just appear out of nowhere because you were angry. I know that people think performing is a pipe dream for me.

“But I don’t care anymore. I’ve realized that I’ve been waiting for everyone to reassure me that I’m good when that’s something  _I_  need to believe. So it’s okay if you don’t think I’m good enough. I  _know_  I’m good enough.”

Sam has no words. He wants to tell her that she’s wrong about him thinking she’s not a good performer, wants to tell her that the world is just waiting for her to claim it, but he knows that those words aren’t going to mean anything to her right now.

“I hope you’re okay after visiting your sister,” she says after the silence begins to weigh down on them.

Sam clears his throat before responding. “Uh, yeah. I’m great, actually. It was exactly what I needed.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it…it made me believe in some things again.”

Tina turns and meets his eyes for the first time since he sat down. There’s a question in them that she won’t ask, but she manages to smile at him.

“I think we should head to bed so we can get up in time for church, don’t you?”

She stands and holds her hand out to help him up. He grasps it and it feels like puzzle pieces clicking together, but he doesn’t dare look to her face to see her reaction. He can’t deal with the feelings he’s getting right now on top of everything else.

“Let’s go,” he responds, keeping hold of her hand and leading her to his room. It’s a silent, comfortable walk, and when she takes off her shoes, Sam smiles at the neat way she lines them against his closet door. She climbs into bed next to Blaine and he wakes slightly at the movement. He doesn’t even open his eyes before wrapping an arm around her.

“Tina,” he mumbles. “I knew you’d come over sooner or later.”

“Shush,” she whispers. “This is a probationary period.”

She’s drifting off before Sam even manages to crawl under the blankets on the other side of Blaine.

“It’s a Blaine sandwich,” Blaine mutters dreamily after everyone is settled in.

“Shut up,” the other two say before falling asleep.

* * *

 

The next time Sam visits Stacey, he doesn’t take Blaine or Tina. He takes Stevie.

Their parents insist that just the two of them go, saying that it would be better for Stevie if less people are present for his first time visiting her grave.

He doesn’t say anything the entire time they’re in the cemetery. All he does is trace the words on her headstone with his finger over and over again or run his fingers through the grass.

Sam brings his guitar and quietly plays Stacey’s favorite songs. Sometimes Stevie will sing along, but he never actually says a word. At one point, while they’re singing “I Hope You Dance” by Leanne Womack, both of them tear up and they have to stop. It’s an older song, but Stacey had loved it because their mother had sung it to them frequently. The message sinks into their thoughts, but neither comment on it.

When they get back into Sam’s car, Stevie finally talks.

“It always feels like I can’t breathe right. Sometimes I forget for a little bit, but then someone does something and I think of her and it’s all I can think about for a long time.”

Tears sting at Sam’s eyes and he reaches over to hold his brother’s hand.

“It’s okay to laugh and smile, Stevie.”

Stevie’s look is blank, but when he meets his eyes, Sam is taken aback by the desperation he can see.

“It hurts. I don’t understand why it hurts so much.”

Sam reaches over the middle of the seats and pulls Stevie into a tight hug. He hates how much older his little brother sounds.

“I promise it won’t hurt so much, eventually. I promise.”

There’s a trust in Stevie’s embrace, and Sam feels a little more like a superhero than he has in a long time.

* * *

 

“What are you doing for prom?” Sam asks Tina one day in the library while her nose is buried in a book about someone named Marni Nixon.

She looks up at him quickly, an expression that’s part trepidation and part surprise on her face.

“Uh, probably nothing. I was thinking of dragging Blaine along with me and getting drunk or something.”

“Do you want to go with me?” Sam’s been trying to find a way to ask her for days, but he finally decides to just go for it. It’s not like he’s asking her to marry him, he tells himself. For once, he wants to take things slow with a girl.

Tina’s expression is blank for a fraction of a second, but she breaks out into a huge grin.

“Yeah, sure,” she answers, her face still split in her huge smile. Sam can’t help but smile back at her.

* * *

 

“So are you two dating now?” Blaine asks after Tina bombards Sam with information about prom.

Sam waits until she’s out of earshot before answering with a sigh. “No. She told me that she doesn’t want to date anyone for awhile.”

“Why not? You two are practically together anyway,” Blaine points out.

“I don’t know, she said something about the laws of the universe and choosing between love and her career or something,”

“I think she’s taking this Rachel Berry-esque ambition kind of far,” Blaine says lowly. “She’s starting to get a little,” he does a hand motion. “Kooky.”

Sam nods with agreement. “Seriously. But I figure that if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.”

Blaine looks surprised. “I have to say, I’m a bit shocked to hear that from you. Pleasantly so, but shocked nonetheless.”

Sam furrows his brow. “Why?”

Blaine chuckles. “Well, you  _did_  tell me you gave Quinn a promise ring after six weeks of knowing her, not to mention you talked about marriage with Mercedes and actually tried to marry Brittany, so…”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Tell me about your Gap Attack, huh, stud?”

Blaine’s face pales. “Who told you about that?”

Sam just laughs. “Your boyfriend is awful at keeping secrets from me.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Blaine corrects half-heartedly.

“Sure he is.”

* * *

 

“Welcome to the last meeting of the year, guys!”

The tiny little God Squad cheers at Joe’s opening words. Sam looks around and smiles at all the girls, who look both excited and sad. Fiona has little bags sitting in front of her, which Sam guesses are gifts for everyone.

“This probably won’t be very long. I just wanted us to have the chance to wind down after all the great fundraising and spiritual learning we did this year, so this meeting is just going to be us talking to each other and exploring our feelings a bit.”

Sam can tell Kitty is on the verge of having to physically restrain herself from rolling her eyes.

“Well, I guess I’ll get the ball rolling so that we can get out of here,” she says. “I’ve had a bit of a rough year. I did a lot of things that I’m…ashamed of. I just—,” she stops to look around the room and meet everyone’s eyes. “I want to thank you guys for letting me in here every week, even though you knew what I did to the people around me. Not everyone is as accepting as you guys.”

Joe looks proud of her and his eyes shine. “That’s why we’re here. No judgment, bro. God praises love and forgiveness.”

Kitty nods. “I know that now,” she says softly.

Dottie raises her hand and Joe nods to her with a smile.

“I still don’t know exactly what I believe,” she says, her eyes glancing around worriedly, as though she’s afraid they’ll kick her out now. “But I’m glad I could be around you guys and pray.”

“No rush, Dottie,” Joe says. “You know we welcome everyone in this room. We had an atheist in here before and if you decide that you’re one, you can still join us.”

Dottie smiles in his direction and Sam holds back a laugh at her look of admiration. He thinks she might have a little crush on Teen Jesus. The girl certainly had strange taste.

“I don’t have many friends,” Fiona says suddenly. They all turn to her and she cowers slightly under their sight, pushing up her glasses and avoiding eye contact. She straightens up, though, and continues. “And I, um, have always had a hard time making them. After my dad died,” her voice gets thick and she has to clear her throat. “I felt so alone. I have my mom, but my dad was always kind of like my voice, and I felt like I would never find a friend after he was gone. You guys made me feel like I was a part of something…so thank you.”

She passes out the little bags and they all get necklaces with a crucifix except Sam, who gets a brown leather bracelet with the cross laced into it.

“I couldn’t really picture you wearing a necklace,” Fiona says to him after he immediate clasps it around his wrist. “My mom makes jewelry and she helped me do these for you guys.”

Sam knows, then, what this group is to him. Glee might be his something special and his something sacred, but God Squad is his something quiet.

* * *

 

It’s the fourth of July and Sam takes Stevie and Stacey down to the lake to watch the fireworks. Most people are still in town, watching from their homes, so there’s no one there except those three. They put out a blanket and lie down side by side with Sam in the middle.

There’s hissing and booming in the distance, along with the crackle of the sparks flying over the sky like temporary stars. The colors shoot across the darkening blanket above them, illuminating all of their faces with green and pink and blue tinted lights.

Sam turns to Stevie and watches his reactions. The boy watches with awe, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide with respect and admiration for the rainbows burning and dying over Lima.

He turns to Stacey and sees pure delight and elation on her face. She’s grinning and almost laughing. Sam doesn’t really understand why she’s so happy, but it makes his heart soar.

He lies back and stares back up at the fireworks. He can’t quite put a name to the feeling of contentedness and joy and hope he’s feeling, but he knows that it’s something peaceful.


	6. Epilogue

**Seven Years Later**

“I can’t get this tie straight! Kurt is going to be so mad!”

Blaine’s crying out with frustration, stomping around the room and frantically asking their friends to help him.

“Calm down, dude,” Finn says gently.

“Yeah, didn’t you, like, come out of the womb tying your umbilical cord into a bow tie?” Sam adds with a chuckle at his own joke.

Blaine turns and glares at him. “That is both gross and  _not_  helpful.”

“Come here,” Sam says. Blaine sighs and walks over to him.

“Sorry; I’m being ridiculous,” he says sheepishly.

“Don’t worry about it, just calm down. You’re acting like a teenager again.”

“Time to take our places, boys,” Artie says from the door. Blaine, Sam, and Finn follow him out the door.

“Where’s—“ Sam begins, but stops when they walk into the main part of the church. It’s decorated beautifully with white and shades of red everywhere, the flowers plentiful but not overdone. The guests are almost all arrived, and Sam can see Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury (whoops, Mrs. Scheuster) sitting in the front row.

“Kurt sure knows what he’s doing,” Artie says.

“That he does,” Blaine replies dreamily.

“Gross,” Finn whispers.

“Well, we’d better go to the back and bring the girls in,” Artie says to the groom. “Good luck, dude. You’ll be great.”

Soon, the music starts and a little flower girl tosses rose petals along the aisle gracefully, if a little enthusiastically. Artie follows, escorting Sugar. They’re followed by Finn and Rachel, then –

“Stevie,” Sam whispers, shaking his head at his out-of-breath brother, who escorts Marley down the aisle, having arrived, no doubt, only minutes before. Quinn and Kurt, the wedding planner, follow them.

The best man leads Mercedes, the maid of honor. Blaine kisses her cheek before they part ways.

Finally, Sam looks down from his place in the center and sees, for the first time since the rehearsal dinner, his bride.

Tina’s dress is fitted all the way down her body, flaring out at the bottom. A ring of lily petals sits atop her head like a halo or a crown, and Sam admittedly thinks of angels the instant he sees her. Her father holds her arm gently, a smile on his face directed toward Sam, but the groom hardly notices.

Her eyes are filled with unshed tears and her mouth is stretched into a smile that seems to radiate light out onto everyone in the room. Sam swears that she’s glowing with happiness, and it makes him even happier to think that he’s even a fraction of the reason why she looks that way.

The walk seems to last forever, and he wants to just run down the aisle and meet her and marry her right there. Somehow, he controls himself and finally gets to take her hand, those puzzle pieces clicking together like they did all those years ago.

* * *

 

The reception is fun and energetic. Stevie’s dancing with practically any woman or man he can find, and Sam chuckles to himself often at his brother’s brazenness. Blaine and Kurt are inseparable, their own fingers decorated with wedding rings from their union a few years before. Mercedes sings during his first dance with Tina.

“I knew you two would find your happy ending,” she says before they start.

Tina smashes cake into his face and they laugh hysterically, despite how cliché the act is. He doesn’t want to leave her side, but friends and family steal her every few minutes. Blaine and Mercedes give silly and heartfelt speeches that make Tina tear up, and Sam pretends to strip for her, making her double over with laughter.

At some point, though, he needs a moment away from all of the commotion. He sneaks outside and breathes deeply, the cool air sobering him.

He’s not surprised to hear footsteps behind him. He knows whom they belong to before he turns around, so he holds out both of his hands and smiles when both of them are held.

“I didn’t know you were going to run so quickly,” Blaine teases.

“Shut up,” Tina says from the other side. “You okay, babe?”

Sam nods. “I just wish she was here to see this.”

Both of them tighten their grips on his hands, moving closer to him and resting their heads on his shoulders. Sam rests his head against Blaine’s and strokes Tina’s hand with his thumb.

“She’s here,” Blaine says quietly. “I know she is.”

Sam can feel Tina nod. “She wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He wants to sob at those words, but the thought of Stacey, watching over them in heaven, makes him smile.

“I hope you liked it, Stacey Grace,” he says out loud. Tina takes a sharp breath before leaning up to kiss his chin.

Sam knows that the world isn’t easy. It’s filled with pain and ugliness and loss and heartache; a lot of the time, those things weigh down on everything good and hide it from view, lost under a sea of helplessness that sometimes feels impossible to navigate.

He also knows that if he opens his heart to those bad things and allows himself to work through them, he also opens himself up to things like peace and joy, things that fill him with the hope and optimism that have gotten him through so much already.

As he stands with his two best friends on his wedding night, he thinks that maybe he doesn’t need to be a superhero to everyone anymore, so long as he can be theirs.

A star twinkles particularly bright in the sky above them, and he says a prayer for Stacey Grace.


End file.
